Consanguinity
by Lucilla2
Summary: When the team seeks shelter from violent weather during a mission, Sheppard comes out the loser during an encounter with the local wildlife.  Shep whump. COMPLETE.  But there is now a SEQUEL to this fic, called Grounded.
1. Chapter 1

CONSANGUINITY -- Part One

SUMMARY: When the team seeks shelter from violent weather during a mission, Sheppard comes out the loser during an encounter with the local wildlife. Shep whump. Team-fic / Friendship

Notes: Set in mid-S3; vague references early S3 eps

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consanguinity  
- noun 1. A close affinity or connection.  
From the latin: com- "together" + sanguineus "of blood."

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"Oh no..."

McKay frowned as he glanced between the hand-held scanner and the ominous dark grey clouds that were fast approaching.

"No no, I do not like the look of this."

Sheppard's brow furrowed only slightly when he glanced skyward, as he and the team trudged up the steep, wooded hillside. The terrain here in this region of P3X-055 was more like a small mountain, part of the foothills to a majestic, snowcapped mountain range beyond.

He took off his sunglasses and slipped them into a pocket of his tac vest. "So we might get a little wet. You're not going to melt, Rodney."

"I'm not talking about a little rain shower. The electrostatic buildup in that storm front is growing by the minute. It's already screwing up the readings. I think it's going to get nasty."

"Define 'nasty'."

"Try a lightning storm, and maybe a monsoon at the same time. We should go back to the jumper."

"It's too far." Sheppard looked up to the top of the rocky outcrop. "We're well past the half-way point. If we need to, looks like there are some caves up there where we can get out of the rain for a while. In the meantime, get out your rain-gear."

"We need to. Now," McKay said as he opened his pack, fishing out the black plastic rain slicker. "We'd better hurry up!"

"You're the one that's been slowing us down," Ronon grumbled.

As the wind kicked up, the first bolts of lightning began to spider-web along the clouds, thunder rumbling ominously.

"It would have been nice if we'd had some advance warning a storm was coming," Sheppard said, looking pointedly at McKay.

"What am I now, the weatherman?"

"Yes, you're the science guy; you're supposed to keep me informed about these kinds of things."

"Hello? Blue skies when we came through the gate...? How am I supposed to know the atmosphere was this volatile? These Ancient devices, they're not tricorders, you know, that can tell me every little thing about the planet."

"I'm surprised you haven't built something like it already, just so you could call it 'a tricorder'," Sheppard smirked.

"Yea, well maybe I will, one of these days... Kirk," McKay said.

Sheppard just shook his head.

Ronon moved closer to Teyla. "What are they talking about?"

"I have no idea," she said.

The rain was falling hard by the time they reached the rocky outcrop, making it more difficult to struggle upwards as the firm ground beneath their feet turned to mud.

They all leaned against the rocks as they took shelter beneath an overhang, breathing hard and shaking off the rain.

As Sheppard moved along the rock ledge, nearing the entrance to a cave, he slowed, looking at the LSD. "I'm not entirely sure we're alone up here."

Ronon moved forward to draw even with Sheppard, his pulse pistol raised. "Wraith?"

He shook his head. "It's hard to get a reading, but I think it's an animal. A big animal, if it's registering on this thing." He pulled off his rain gear and raised his gun, looking around warily.

"Oh great, that's just what we need," McKay moaned. The rain was coming down in sheets now, the wind occasionally pushing the rain into them, drenching them further. He and Teyla clutched their weapons. "Maybe we should keep going and find an empty cave!"

"I can't tell for sure where it is exactly." Sheppard shook the malfunctioning LSD in frustration, then shoved it into a pocket on his vest. "Might be just fine inside, and the animal is on the other side of the ridge."

Lightning cracked directly overhead, close enough to raise the hairs on their bodies, and they all flinched. "We gotta get under cover!" He turned on the P-90's light, and he and Ronon ventured forward. "You two stay there; we'll check the place out."

They moved together cautiously, staying close, sweeping the darkened confines of the large, high-walled cave with their lights for a few minutes.

"Looks okay," Sheppard finally said, relaxing a little. "I think we'll be safe here for --- "

As he spoke, he heard an ominous growl from behind and above him.

"Oh crap...," he muttered as he whirled around, raising the muzzle of the P-90 higher. But the thing was too fast, moving in a blur, all teeth and claws, and Sheppard yelped as it slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. The cave lit up with weapons fire as Ronon fired, and he himself managed to squeeze off a few rounds.

The animal bellowed in rage and pain, Ronon's blaster knocking it back and away from Sheppard, and Ronon fired again several times, killing the beast, and it slumped to the ground in a corner. The cave went silent except for the wind and rain howling outside.

"What the hell was that!?" McKay's voice came a few moments later from outside.

"Colonel┘? Ronon?" Teyla called. "Are you all right?"

Ronon stood over the large creature, pulse blaster pointed at its head as he kicked it a few times. "Wait...!" He swept the space again, firing a few shots up into other possible hiding spaces, bringing down dust and shards of rock

"Clear!" he called out when he was sure it was safe. "It's dead."

Teyla came quickly into sight, P-90 raised, and saw Sheppard lying on the ground, Ronon standing protectively between him and the slain animal.

"Colonel!" She hurried to his side, dropping her weapon and falling to her knees.

The breath had been knocked out of him when he went down, and Sheppard was just now getting it back, the stars in his eyes fading slowly. But when he tried to sit up and raise his weapon, he found that his right arm would not cooperate, a wet warmth pooling around and under his shoulder and his left leg. Pain did not register yet, only dull amazement and confusion.

Looking down in the dim light, it surprised him to find blood welling out of the four long slashes in the right side of his chest and arm.

When the beast had come at him, he had thought that he had evaded the massive paw that went for his face. But in fact, he had only avoided having his throat ripped out. Instead, its claws had raked across his upper chest, shoulder and arm, opening him up from collarbone to bicep, the shredded tac vest perhaps having prevented an even deeper wound.

The tattered fabric along his left hip and thigh were cause for concern also. He reached down with his uninjured arm, gingerly touching the torn cloth and finding the torn flesh beneath, his fingers coming away thick with blood.

"I think it got me...," he said dazedly, looking up into Teyla's worried eyes.

"Yes, it did, Colonel. Now lie still, and let us see what your injuries are."

McKay was crouching at his side now while Ronon continued to stand over the animal.

"Make sure it's the only one, that it didn't have a mate or cubs or something!" McKay yelled, eyes darting around warily, holding his 9-mil in front of him

"I already did," Ronon said.

McKay glanced down at Sheppard. "I told you we should have tried someplace else!"

Sheppard grimaced. "Yea, in hindsight, I'd have to agree with that."

He looked over at the animal, which resembled one of the big cat species on Earth, a sort of cross between a mountain lion and tiger, with shaggy tan fur and wide brown stripes. The cat's own blood was dark, almost black, but its muzzle and claws were stained with bright red blood.

His blood.

"Crap."

"Rodney," Teyla said, "He needs a doctor. Call the rest of the team at the gate."

⌠Right," McKay said, still clutching the gun as he scrambled back to the mouth of the cave, calling out on the radio.

"How bad is it?" Sheppard asked her as she continued to examine him, using a knife to slit open his sleeve all the way to the shoulder, ripping the fabric further to expose the wounds.

"I am not a doctor, but I believe it is serious."

He nodded. He could feel the shock and adrenaline starting to wear off, the pain beginning to make itself known.

"But you are going to be all right, I am sure of it," she said, her voice calm and reassuring.

There were additional slashes across the front of the vest, but the Kevlar within and the equipment in his pockets had prevented anything going through to his torso, as they discovered when Ronon helped her ease Sheppard out of his vest and jacket, slitting open the black T-shirt beneath so his bare, bloodied chest was exposed..

Her fingers probed at the gashes in his shoulder, separating some fabric that had been pulled into the wound, and he hissed in pain, tears forming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, backing off, moving to the other side to look at his leg, ripping the side of his pants open too.

He tried to move, to see what the damage was down there, but instantly regretted it, gasping as pain flared in his shoulder.

"Stay still, Colonel, please."

As he gritted his teeth, she grabbed her pack, starting to rip her extra jacket into strips. "I need bandages, cloth, anything to stop the bleeding," she told Ronon, who started doing the same.

McKay came back, rifling through his own pack and the small, woefully inadequate first aid kit. He held up a tiny foil pouch of antiseptic, rolling his eyes as he tossed it to Teyla. "Oh, that's a lot of help," he quipped. Between the four of them, they had 6 military field dressings, some extra gauze, a small roll of tape, the antiseptic, two Tylenol, an alcohol wipe, a couple of band-aids and two small thermal blankets.

"What about the radio?" Sheppard asked. "Are they coming?"

McKay averted his eyes. "I can't get through to anyone. It's the storm -- the atmosphere is too electrically charged."

They all stilled, eyes taking in McKay's very worried expression.

Sheppard swallowed hard. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure! You think I didn▒t try a dozen times?" he snapped. "The radio's useless right now."

Sheppard shook his head slightly, tapping the comm in his ear. "This is Sheppard to Jumper 1, do you copy...?" Static crackled in his ear as lighting and thunder continued to flash continuously. "We have a medical emergency, do you copy...?" He tried several more times but there was only static on the line, and finally he tapped it off.

"Terrific," he muttered as he closed his eyes for a few moments.

The team continued to work in earnest to stop the bleeding. The field dressings were used, pressure was applied, and the cloth strips were wrapped around his arm and shoulder in addition. But blood continued to flow, turning everything crimson.

McKay was grimacing as he held the compress down on the thigh wounds where the beast had apparently started to take a bite out of him. Fortunately, it did not seem to have had time to fully close its jaws, but the punctures from the long incisors and deep ragged gashes from the other sharp teeth remained.

"It didn't get the artery, did it?" Sheppard asked, knowing full well that if the femoral artery had been cut, most likely he was a dead man, that he would bleed out before help ever came.

"No. No, I just can't stand the sight of blood."

Other things began to worry Sheppard. "It didn't get...you know... anything else... vital... down there, did it? It's just my leg, right?"

"What?" McKay looked confused, then flushed slightly. "No, no┘ you're, uhm, intact┘ down there."

"Thank god," he sighed.

"He needs Doctor Beckett." Teyla was talking to Ronon and McKay as she applied pressure to his shoulder. "We don't have the supplies we need, not for this."

"I know that, but the storm is too intense. The radios don't have the power to cut through something like this," McKay said.

"We must do something. We cannot wait for the storm to pass."

"I'll go back on foot," Ronon announced as he stood up. "And I'll bring the doctor back from the gate."

"Wha -- ? No way!" Sheppard said. "It's too dangerous out there. This much rain in this terrain means flash floods. That ravine we crossed will be a river by now, not to mention the damn lightning."

Ronon shook his head. "We're wasting time talking. I'm not going to sit here and wait. Besides, it's my fault. I should have shot it before it could reach you. I was slow."

"Hell, so was I," Sheppard said. "But it was hiding up on that ledge where we couldn't see it -- it's not your fault. So just wait until it lets up a little out there."

Ronon continued to get ready to go, leaving behind anything that was not absolutely essential, including his long heavy coat.

"Ronon, it's too much of a risk," Teyla said.

"I'm ordering you not to go. At least give McKay some time to fix the radio," Sheppard said.

"Sorry, Colonel. I can't sit here and do nothing. You don't need three people to hold your hand."

"Wait, what if there are more of those - those mountain lion things around?" McKay said.

"Then shoot them," Ronon said as he headed out.

"Ronon!" Sheppard yelled, with more strength than he could really spare, trying to push himself up with his good arm, ignoring his body's protests. But Ronon did not look back, disappearing, and Sheppard swore as he fell back. "Dammit!"

Silence fell for a few moments as the three looked at each other.

"Well now┘ I gotta say that nearly becoming an afternoon snack wasn't exactly what I had in mind for this little trip," Sheppard quipped.

"Since when do things go according to plan around here?" McKay said. He looked at Teyla. "Aren't we supposed to be doing something else? You know, like try to make him more comfortable?"

"It is probably best not to move him too much. But yes, we might have to wait for a while; we should try to make it easier for him."

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't talk like I'm not here." Sheppard shifted experimentally, and even though everything hurt like hell, he was not incapacitated, not yet. "I can move -- just go slow, ok?"

They did shift him around a bit, moving him closer to the mouth of the cave where the ground was smoother and there was more light. His clothes were loosened so he could breathe easier, and his holster removed, with his belt used to bind the leg wound more securely. They discovered there were a few more claw marks on his right leg, shallow wounds that were not life threatening.

But it just contributed to the overall misery, and he gritted his teeth as they dressed those too before helping him sit up long enough to drape his jacket over his shoulders again to try to keep him warm. Then they spread a rain poncho on the ground, placing one thermal blanket on top before shifting him onto it. When he had lain down, they covered him with a second thermal blanket and a poncho with Ronon▒s coat on top.

He managed to be stoic about the pain -- not wanting to appear weak in front of them -- enduring their attempts to help him as best he could.

They used a rounded, smooth rock under his knee to elevate the injured leg, and Sheppard held his hand down over the top of his thigh, helping keep the bandages in place. Settling into the pillow Teyla had made out of a backpack, he closed his eyes gratefully, all the movement tiring him out quickly and making him realize just how bad off he was.

"Colonel." His eyes opened, slowly focusing on her. "Please, try to stay awake if you can." She dabbed at a small cut on his jaw with a scrap of fabric, wiping away the blood that had trickled down his neck.

"I'll try," he sighed, looking over at McKay who was busy working on trying to make radio contact again. "I'll be ok," he said to her, trying to sound more optimistic than he felt. "This is the most normal injury I've had in a while. Iratus bugs, Wraith feedings, the retro-virus -- I've survived them, so this isn't such a big deal. And it could have been worse -- could've gotten knocked back into the rocks and split my head open."

"Of course you will be okay." She squeezed his hand. He shivered slightly and she asked, "Are you cold?"

He nodded. "A little. It's just so damp." The temperature had also dropped noticeably since they had first arrived at the gate, the warm summer day turning blustery and chilly.

"I'll see what I can do about starting a fire," she said.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

CONSANGUINITY --- Part Two  
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Teyla used one of the rain ponchos to partially cover up the carcass of the dead animal, then went about gathering the small amount of debris and kindling that was scattered around the cave. She approached McKay as he stood near the opening, watching the rain and lightning as he worked with his scanner, LSD and radio.

"You must get through to Atlantis," she said quietly. "He needs medical attention soon; some of the wounds are quite deep, almost down to the bone."

"I know, I can see that!" he whispered back, scrubbing at the blood that was drying along the edges of his fingernails. "But there's only so much I can do in these conditions."

"Hey...!" Sheppard's voice cut through. "I told you -- don't talk about me like I'm not here, and don't sugar-coat it. I probably know more about field treatment of battlefield wounds than either of you, so give it to me straight."

"All right." She came back, dropping the kindling on the ground nearby. "We must hope that Ronon is able to safely and quickly reach the gate. Some of your wounds are deep and there has been significant blood loss. But the bleeding appears to have stopped, no major arteries are damaged and there does not appear to be any internal bleeding. You are doing all right, for now, but we have no way of knowing how long that you will remain so. So what is your own professional assessment of the situation, Colonel?"

He looked back at her with calm eyes. "With injuries like these, procedure is to keep the soldier immobile, if possible, and apply pressure to the wounds and stop the bleeding. Shock is the most likely complication, from the trauma and/or blood loss. You wait for the medics, keep him warm and dry and calm, and hope to hell the poor bastard doesn't bleed to death before they get there."

His tone had been matter-of-fact, detached and professional, but then his eyes softened, shifting between her and McKay. "If there's going to be a long wait, my chances of survival depend on whether you can keep the bleeding under control."

"And we have, at least as well as we can with what we have available here. Now you must lie still and conserve your energy."

"I think maybe I can boost the signal on our headsets with the power source on the scanner. But it might not be enough to cut through this interference," McKay said.

"I'm sure you can work your miracles again, Rodney." He gave a strained smile. "But keep an eye on the life signs detector -- assuming it's working at all -- for any more visitors. All this blood may attract other predators."

"What!?" McKay pulled out his pistol again, pointing it nervously towards the entrance. "That's great; we're all going to end up as an afternoon snack at this rate!"

The storm continued to rage outside, lightning and thunder and pouring rain. "Ronon had no business going out in this," Sheppard said. He touched his radio with his good hand. "Ronon, this is Colonel Sheppard, do you copy...? Ronon, if you can hear me, come in...! Ronon...!" The only answer was static, and he quit trying. "Dammit."

He looked accusingly at Teyla and McKay. "You shouldn't have let him leave."

"Oh right," McKay scoffed. "Like we could have held him down."

"He was determined to go," Teyla said. "But I believe that if there is anyone capable of making it through all this and bringing help, it is Ronon."

"The man can certainly take care of himself." Sheppard sighed. "But even if by some miracle he gets through soon, the medics won't be able to leave right away -- the jumpers won't be able to mount a rescue in this mess until it lets up."

"How much do we have to eat?" McKay said.

Teyla and Sheppard looked at him.

"What? We need to keep up our strength, don't we? Especially me, if I get hypoglycemic I can't think straight."

"I'm not hungry," Sheppard said.

Teyla got the canteen out of her pack, tossing a power bar to McKay. "But you do need to stay hydrated."

"At least we don't have to worry about running out of water," Sheppard said, watching the rain pour down. She brought the canteen to his mouth, but he only took a small amount to moisten his lips. "Actually, if you think someone might be going into shock, you shouldn't give them any food or water," he said, pushing the canteen away reluctantly.

"Really?" McKay said.

"Of course; I had forgotten," Teyla said, quickly pulling away the canteen. "I am sorry."

"Sounds like someone wasn't paying attention in Carson's first aid class," Sheppard said to McKay.

McKay shrugged, looking sheepish. "Probably not... It's all voodoo anyway," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "First aid is important -- as our present situation clearly demonstrates. Consider yourself signed up for a refresher when we get back."

"Awww, come on!" McKay protested, talking around a mouthful of power bar.

"Perhaps I should be as well."

"No, Teyla, you're doing great. Carson will be proud."

"Well, what am I, chopped liver? I helped."

Sheppard's eyes lingered on the drying blood on McKay's hands and jacket. "Yes, you did," he said quietly. Then the corner of his mouth quirked. "But you still need to repeat the class."

McKay snorted but said nothing, fiddling with the radio and scanner.

"I really hope this Ancient artifact we're looking for is worth all this... If it's even there," Sheppard said as Teyla continued to search the cave for anything that would burn.

"The Ancient database said it was," McKay said. "Whether it's still functioning is another story."

Sheppard sighed. "If we'd only been able to make it another mile..."

"Then we'd probably be caught out in the open in the storm," Teyla pointed out.

"True. But I'd prefer being soaked and half-drowned to this."

"But being hit by lightning, not so much," McKay muttered. "You realize we're going to have to do this all over again, send out another mission to finish what we started. Zelenka's going in my place next time; let him worry about being eaten."

Another long silence fell. Sheppard's eyes glanced around the dark stone walls, drumming his fingers against his side. "Anybody bring a deck of cards?" he asked. "Might help pass the time." They shook their heads. "No...? Well then... How about gossip? Anybody heard any juicy rumors lately?" he grinned. "I'll bet -- "

"Colonel," Teyla interrupted. "You should conserve your strength. Rest, please. You do not need to reassure us."

"Just trying to make conversation," he said, but letting the volume of his voice drop. He _was_ tired. Damn tired.

"I cannot make a fire," Teyla announced after a few minutes, dusting off her hands and returning to Sheppard's side. "What little there is to burn will produce only smoke, not heat."

Sheppard gave her a half-smile. "Thanks for trying."

"I have a plan," McKay said suddenly, scooting over to them.

"I knew you'd come up with something, McKay," Sheppard said, eyes brightening. "Let's hear it."

"I'm going to tie together the battery from this -- " He pointed to the scanner. " -- and the radio. It'll boost the power and the signal. But -- it'll burn out the transmitter in 5 or 10 seconds. But hopefully that will be long enough to get the message across. We've got three radios so we can try it twice. It's pointless to try it right now, but hopefully in a little while it will start to lighten up and the interference will decrease. I'll send an emergency signal out the first time, then wait a half hour or so to try again. There's no guarantee it'll work, but hopefully they'll pick it up at the gate and be able to get a search team out."

"When we miss our check in, they'll probably start trying to contact us anyway. So, we keep one radio intact?" Sheppard asked, and McKay nodded. "How long is 'a little while' before you make the first attempt?"

McKay sighed. "I don't know. The storm seems to be passing quickly, but I can't tell for sure. An hour, at least, I'd say. And that's just a rough estimate." He looked over at Teyla. "Could be longer."

Sheppard's eyes closed slowly, and he let out a long breath. When he opened his eyes again, his expression was resigned. "So we're talking… hours... before anyone gets here."

McKay could not meet his eyes for long. "Possibly, yes."

"Good to know," Sheppard said, then went quiet.

"But that only applies to Dr. McKay's plan. Ronon is still out there," Teyla reminded them.

"That takes time too. It took us nearly two hours to get up here."

"But that was uphill. He's going downhill. Much faster, especially since the man was a Runner," McKay said.

"Yes, well, the problem with that is, all this rain is also going downhill," Sheppard said.

"We must not dwell on such things," Teyla said.

She got up and withdrew to the mouth of the cave, staring out at the horizon. "The storm is moving quickly. It cannot last forever." Indeed, the rain had slackened slightly and the lightning flashes were not quite as frequent, but it was still a dangerous storm.

After a long while, during which she had kept a watchful eye on Sheppard while McKay worked on the radio, Teyla approached him again, kneeling beside him.

"How are you doing?" Teyla asked.

"I'm ok," he said stoically.

"Colonel, if you want me to be straight with you, you have to be straight with me."

He chewed on his lower lip for a few moments, then sighed. "Fair enough... Been better. I'm really tired, and I'm cold, and my leg and arm are a little numb."

"Are the bandages too tight? We need to control the bleeding, but cutting off too much blood to the extremities would not be a good thing either."

"You could loosen this, just a little bit," Sheppard said, touching the belt around his thigh. "I don't think it's bleeding much anymore."

Teyla adjusted the belt, checking the dressings as she did so. When she was through, he flexed his foot slightly. "Better?" she asked.

Sheppard nodded. "Everything else still hurts like hell. But I'm patient -- I can wait for Beckett."

"You are strong, Colonel, in excellent physical condition. You will survive this," she said confidently.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Do you have to tell him that? We'll never hear the end of it."

Sheppard ignored him. "Thank you, Teyla," he said, smiling warmly.

"The bleeding seems to be under control. A few stitches and you will be fine."

"Well, I think there will be a lot more than 'a few'. This is really gonna screw up my golf swing." He hesitated, chewing on his lip again. "But I think the shoulder is still bleeding. You need to check the bandages."

McKay looked up, moving closer.

"They're soaked through -- I can feel it," he said as Teyla pulled back the coverings. "Underneath my shoulder, it feels wetter than before. I think it's seeping down along my armpit to the ground. Those damn claws were like razors -- cut pretty deep." He shifted slightly, grimacing.

She examined the blood-soaked bandages closely. "I believe you are right. We should have continued to keep pressure on it, but I thought it was under control."

"It was; I must've moved my arm and started it up again."

"We need more bandages," she muttered to herself, looking around. She sat down and pulled off one boot, then used a knife to cut off one pants leg above her knee, taking it off and ripping it into long wide strips. "They're still wet from the rain," she said apologetically. "But it'll have to do." She turned to McKay. "Help me hold him up."

McKay held his head, supporting his back as they both rolled Sheppard towards his left side. Blood had indeed soaked the back of his jacket and a small section of the thermal blanket, and McKay and Teyla exchanged worried glances.

Sheppard gasped and whimpered softly when she started to apply more bandages to his shoulder and upper arm. She paused, laying her hand gently on his bare forearm. "It's swollen now, isn't it?"

"Yea," he hissed, breathing hard and fast between clenched teeth, his body trembling slightly, eyes squeezed shut. His hand clutched at McKay's arm in a vice grip, fingers digging in deep, and McKay winced.

"But just get it over with, quick as you can," Sheppard panted.

"No," she said, shaking her head as she took a few brief moments to loosen the bandages already in place. "Lay him down again, Rodney," she said. "It does little good to slow the bleeding this way if the pain sends you into shock, Colonel."

Perspiration had beaded on Sheppard's forehead as he settled back into a prone position. "Good call," he said. "Hurts like hell." His eyelids fluttered close. "No more, ok? I don't care how much I'm bleeding."

"No problem," McKay said, looking nearly as ashen as Sheppard did.

Teyla wasn't much better. "I am so sorry, John. I did not mean to cause you more pain."

"It's ok... I know you're just trying to help."

She pulled the thermal blanket and Ronon's coat up over him again, letting her hands linger over his shoulder, applying gentle but firm pressure on the wounds again. Sheppard flinched but said nothing. "Rest now."

"No problem," he said weakly. He started to drift off, mumbling, "So tired… Just wanna sleep a while."

Teyla's brow furrowed more deeply. "John?" she said as she laid her fingers on his neck, checking his pulse, alarmed to find that his previously steady and strong heartbeat had become rather rapid and thready. "No, John, do not go to sleep. You need to stay awake. Stay with us."

"What is it? What's wrong?" a panicky McKay said.

"'m ok. Not asleep… Just resting my eyes," Sheppard mumbled again, slurring his words slightly.

She raised her voice. "John, everything is going to be all right. Rodney and I will take care of you, but you must help us. Stay awake. Open your eyes and talk to us."

His eyelids fluttered open, but then closed soon after. "Tired of talking… Hurts."

Teyla grimaced and gestured for McKay to say something.

"Oh, c-come on, Sheppard," McKay stammered, then cleared his throat and continued in a steadier voice. "It's just a little pain -- you said yourself you've seen worse. 'Suck it up' -- isn't that what you jock-types always say? 'No pain no gain?'. You're always telling me to toughen up, but now look at you… You -- You're a pathetic excuse for a U.S. Air Force officer."

Teyla gave him a dirty look. "Rodney…!" she hissed.

But Sheppard opened his eyes wider now. "Pathetic…?"

"I don't care if you beat the crap outta me when we get back, and -- " He stopped, tilting his head. "Well, actually, I do care. But the point is, you have to be alive to kick my ass, Sheppard."

"Yes, I do," Sheppard said, but his eyes started to close.

"No no no no," McKay whispered, panic creeping into his voice again, exchanging worried looks with Teyla. "Don't go into shock."

"Colonel," Teyla said in her most authoritative tone, lightly slapping the side of Sheppard's face. "Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, I order you to stay awake… Are you listening to me, soldier?" she barked.

Sheppard's eyes snapped open, and he blinked a few times, eyes finally focusing on her again.

"Did you hear what I said, Colonel? Do not fall asleep. That is an order!"

He stirred some more, blinking again. "You're giving me orders now, Teyla?"

"Carson is not here, so I will say what needs to be said. You must fight this, Colonel. Ronon has gone and is risking his life to get help for you -- do not dishonor that. Doctor McKay and I will look after you, but you must do your part. Do not give up."

Emotion flared in his hazel eyes, and he glared at her. "I'm _not_ giving up."

"Then stay with us. Stay awake, talk to us, and let us help you. I know you are in pain, and there is little we can do for that now. But be patient -- we will get you home, John."

She and McKay were leaning over him, and he looked into both their eyes, drawing strength from their resolve.

"I know you will," Sheppard said, his voice sounding stronger.

He took several long deep breaths, eyes wide open as he stared up at them, and gradually, over many minutes, it seemed to take less effort for him to stay conscious, his heart rate slowly dropping back to near normal. He was still pale and weak, but it seemed that Sheppard was holding himself together by sheer force of will.

Eventually he turned to McKay, giving him an odd look. "Uh, Rodney…?"

"What?"

"Can I have my hand back now…?"

"Huh?"

McKay's eyes followed as Sheppard's shifted down to his left hand.

And McKay abruptly released his grip, realizing he had been holding Sheppard's hand ever since they had tried to fix his shoulder bandages. "I was -- I was just taking your pulse."

Sheppard quirked an amused eyebrow at him. "Oh really?"

"Ok, ok, so you just seriously scared the crap outta me!" McKay babbled loudly. "Don't do that again!"

"I'll try not to die just yet," Sheppard said with his usual dry wit. "I wouldn't want to freak you out."

"Oh, this is so not my thing," McKay moaned, running his hand through his hair. "Dammit, where the hell is that quack Beckett when you need him?"

"Rodney," Teyla said, laying her hand on his shoulder. "_We_ are going to get him home. And we all need to stay calm."

"I know, I know," McKay muttered. "I'll shut up now."

After a minute or two, McKay noticed Sheppard was looking at him strangely again. "What? What now?"

"…'A pathetic excuse for a U.S. Air Force officer'…?"

McKay rolled his eyes. "I was trying to piss you off; I thought that would keep you awake. I was improvising… It was lame, I know."

"I doubt Carson would approve of such methods," Teyla said, still giving McKay the evil eye.

Sheppard shrugged. "Whatever works… Including ordering around your team leader," he said with a strained smile.

She smiled back. "Whatever works... But I must say, I rather enjoyed that part of it."

"I'll bet."

-

Teyla and McKay took turns watching over him, frequently checking his pulse and respiration as well as keeping pressure on the shoulder wounds, while the other went outside watching for rescue and trying to call for help.

When the weather had shown definite signs of clearing, most of the rain moving out, the dark clouds blowing swiftly away towards the far horizon, McKay sent the first emergency call, burning out Teyla's radio. There was no answer, however, and a half hour later they tried again with Sheppard's radio, with no success then either.

Their options exhausted, the only thing they could do was continue to use McKay's remaining radio to keep calling for help.

While Teyla took her turn outside, McKay sat near him on the hard floor. He occupied himself with the computer tablet for a while, but stopped after realizing a glassy-eyed Sheppard was watching him.

"You certainly have a knack for winding up in the infirmary," McKay said, laying the tablet aside with a sigh, reaching down to check the pulse in Sheppard's neck.

"It's a talent," Sheppard said with his characteristic smirk, blinking a few times, and the glassy look disappeared. His pulse was a bit weak but acceptable under the circumstances.

Then the grin faded into a solemn expression. "I never ask people to do something I wouldn't do myself. Or maybe you'd prefer to go into the dark scary cave first next time." His voice was low, but still held a definite note of underlying strength.

McKay shuddered. "No, thank you."

"Didn't think so. And I wouldn't want you to -- that's my job. This is what I do, Rodney. I'm a soldier. Getting wounded is an occupational hazard. When I take point, I know that means I'm the most at risk. I do it to protect my team." He quirked a smile. "Even you."

McKay rolled his eyes.

"I…" Sheppard had been looking directly at him, but now his eyes dropped. "I'd sacrifice my life for any one of you. If -- "

"Wait a minute," McKay interrupted, eyes widening, looking panicky again, "What are you doing? If this is one of those 'I'm dying so I'd better make my peace with everyone' type of moments, you can just stop right now."

"Rodney -- "

"No, just shut up. You're not going to die."

"That's not what I meant -- "

"You're giving up. You can't do that."

"I'm not giving up!" He tried to raise his voice, but it came out disturbingly squeaky, since whenever he took a deep breath his ribs expanded and pulled painfully at the slashes on his chest. "I was just -- "

He huffed, feeling very light-headed, the room starting to spin a little as it had several times before. He was in no condition for one of their usual 'No I didn't -- Yes you did' type of snarkfests.

"I wasn't saying goodbye," he sighed.

"Then what were you saying?"

"That I was just doing my damn job today, McKay. And shit happens."

"Oh." McKay was quiet for a few moments. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place instead of starting to get all mushy and -- "

"I have no idea," Sheppard grumbled. "Must be lack of blood and oxygen to the brain."

McKay was still eyeing him warily, and Sheppard continued, "There's no way I'm going to let myself be taken down for the final count by some damn alien animal… It would look really un-cool on my tombstone -- death by cat." Maybe it really was the lack of oxygen, but he could not help but grin at the absurdity of it all.

"But it's not a cat -- it's a big scary mountain lion with really big teeth. And very sharp claws."

"Still -- not cool. Now, dying while I take out a fleet of Wraith hiveships -- that would be cool."

McKay rolled his eyes again. "What is wrong with you? 'Dying' and 'cool' do not belong in the same sentence. I suppose it's all part of that ridiculous 'hero complex' of yours. Either that or you have a death wish. Or maybe it's one in the same for you military types."

Sheppard smiled back, starting to chuckle. "Yea, that must be it. On both counts." But then the chuckle turned into a cough, and he grimaced, hissing in pain. "Aw, hell," he gasped, clutching at his wounded shoulder as the coughing made his chest feel like the claws were tearing at him again. "Not a good idea."

"What? What's wrong?" McKay asked worriedly, leaning over him, hands hovering but too afraid to touch Sheppard for fear of inflicting more pain.

"Laughing..." He bit his lip as he went completely still and the coughing and pain subsided. "Don't make me laugh, McKay."

"That was laughing?"

When the spasm had passed, Sheppard nodded. "I guess a belly-laugh would probably kill me." McKay just looked at him worriedly. "Hopefully I didn't open something up again."

"Great," McKay muttered.

He reached out hesitantly, lifting the corner of the blankets, letting his hand hover a hair's-breath above Sheppard's as it pressed against the bandages. "I guess it's my turn again."

"'S'ok; I got it. You concentrate on getting us out of here."

"I am perfectly capable of multi-tasking," McKay huffed. "Even one-handed. You just lie there and -- and conserve your energy, and try not to bleed all over everything." McKay scooted up close, balancing the tablet in his lap. "I don't need another first aid class -- tell Beckett I get credit here for hands-on experience."

Sheppard gave a weak smile. "He just might do that."

McKay's steady hand replaced Sheppard's shaky one on top of the bandages, continuing to apply pressure to the wounds.

"Just do me a favor and don't get so wrapped up in that screen that you forget I'm here and lean back or something," Sheppard said.

The bandages were warm and sticky with blood, the humid air thick with the metallic smell of it, like a copper penny, and McKay muttered, "Like I can forget why we're here."

TBC

-

(This is part 2 of a 4-part fic)


	3. Chapter 3

CONSANGUINITY --- Part Three (of a 4-part fic)  
-  
-

As time dragged on, McKay had taken to pacing in and out of the cave, trying the radio every few minutes.

"Will you stop that?" Sheppard finally said in a weary voice. "You're making me tired just watching you. And you're making me nervous."

"I can't help it," McKay babbled. "It's too frustrating to just sit there, and wait for you to -- " He stopped abruptly. "I -- It's got nothing to do with you, really," he said, slightly flustered. "I -- I'm hungry; my blood sugar's all over the place… You're going to be fine, Sheppard, just fine."

Sheppard frowned. "Your beside manner sucks. Anytime someone says 'you're going to be fine' like that, what it really means is 'you're screwed and you're going to die'."

"John, Rodney, please -- this isn't helping," Teyla said as she sat beside the wounded man.

Sheppard was quiet a moment, flexing his fingers to ease the pins and needles feeling in his right hand, wincing at the pain that the small movement brought. His hands were like ice, the blue veins standing out starkly against the pale skin. The pain in his shoulder and leg throbbed with every heartbeat, and although they seemed to have stopped the bleeding again, he was acutely aware of how much of his life's blood had soaked into his clothing and bandages. He was cold, and it was becoming a huge effort just to stay awake. He was screwed, and they all knew it. 

"Just keep trying the damn radio, McKay."

"Yes, sir -- Aye, sir -- Right away, Colonel, SIR!" McKay snapped, giving a mock salute, and stalked outside.

Teyla did not say anything, merely giving a long-suffering sigh as she gently took hold of Sheppard's left wrist, moving his arm back under the blankets, rubbing her hand slowly up and down the bare skin, trying to warm him a little.

"I fear you are too cold. Since we have no fire, when he comes back, I believe we must begin to keep you warm with our own body heat."

Sheppard gave her a funny look. "I don't think we've quite reached that stage yet. 'Snuggling up' with McKay?" He wrinkled his nose. "Don't think so."

She raised an eyebrow. "And me?"

His expression was the half-embarrassed, rather charmingly self-deprecating smile she'd seen on him so often. "Well, that's a little different. You're a woman, and you're on my team, and it's… " She could see he was struggling to find the words. "It's just different."

"John, this is a survival situation." Her expression became very serious. "I'm being straight with you. We have reached that stage -- you need our help to stay warm."

'And alive' hung in the air unspoken.

He sobered too. "Yea… ok," he said, wondering how they were going to manage to do that without him passing out or starting to bleed again.

-

McKay stuck his hands out into the rainwater that was cascading down the rocks, washing off the traces of Sheppard's blood. Wiping his hands off on his pants, he sighed as he stepped back under the overhang and tapped the radio for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last couple of hours.

"This is McKay. We have a medical emergency. Mayday, mayday -- any Atlantis team member please respond... Medical emergency, requiring immediate extraction. Do you copy...?"

Static answered yet again, and he swore under his breath. He waited a minute, then repeated the transmission.

"Answer, dammit," he muttered. 

Sheppard was weak, growing progressively weaker as the minutes turned into hours, the cut on his jaw standing out plainly now against his pale skin. He did not seem like he was in imminent danger of dying, but McKay knew that even if he made contact right now, it would take more time for rescue to come, stranded as they were up here on the rocky slope. Time that Sheppard might not have.

His eyes scanned the green, wet, muddy landscape, and the skies beyond, but there was no sign of anything but rain and mist and the occasional flash of lightning far off in the distance. Sighing, he turned back towards the cave. But he hesitated before going back in, not knowing what to say to Sheppard anymore. He leaned back against the rock face, deciding to wait here for a while. 

His mind was occupied with thoughts of how else to modify the equipment when a burst of static on the radio grabbed his attention. He listened closely, and a few moments later the static buzzed in his ear for a few seconds, in the middle of which he swore was a fragment of a word.

Smiling, but trying not to get his hopes up, he tapped the radio again. "This is McKay. Medical emergency! Do you copy?"

There was another burst of static, and this time he could make out actual words, in a voice that sounded like Major Lorne's. "... -lantis... jum--... McK --."

"This is McKay!" he said, raising his voice. "You're breaking up. Repeat transmission...!"

There was another burst of incomprehensible static, and as McKay repeated his own call, Teyla came out of the cave.

"What is it? Have you got something?"

"Yea, yea, I think so," he said, smiling, and she started to also. "This is McKay. We have a medical emergency, need evac now!"

There was another burst of static so loud he almost had to pull the receiver out of his ear. But then it stopped, and Lorne's voice came through loud and clear. "This is Major Lorne in Jumper 1. Doctor McKay, do you read? We are inbound to your location with Doctor Beckett. Do you copy?"

"Yes yes yes, I hear you!" he said happily. "Thank god, we've been calling for hours. Colonel Sheppard needs immediate medical attention -- hurry up!"

Teyla's smile was tempered with concern as she hugged him for a moment. "What about Ronon?"

"Good to hear your voice, Doctor," Lorne said, sounding very relieved also. "We'll be there in a few minutes -- we'll take care of the Colonel."

"Have you seen or heard from Ronon? He left hours ago to try to get help, and we haven't heard from him since."

Another voice came over the radio. "I'm on the jumper. Told you guys I'd take care of it."

His smile widened as he mouthed to Teyla. 'He made it.' "Yes, well, he's pissed at you, you know, for disobeying orders."

"I can live with that," Ronon said. "We'll be over your position in four minutes."

Beckett came on the line. "What's Colonel Sheppard's condition?"

"Bad. He's lost a lot of blood, but he's hanging in there. He's a stubborn bastard."

"Tell him help's on the way, Rodney."

"We will." 

They both hurried back inside the cave, Teyla kneeling beside Sheppard.

"The hell is going on?" he demanded. "Did you make contact?"

"Yes, Major Lorne will be here in a couple minutes in a jumper. With Beckett," McKay said, a broad smile on his face.

"And Ronon," Teyla said.

Immense relief washed over Sheppard. "Thank god." He closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh.

"You are going to be fine, John," Teyla said, patting his hand.

"Yea." He smiled up at them both with weary eyes. "Looks like you're off the hook with the whole 'huddling for warmth' thing," he said to McKay.

"What…? Don't get all delusional on me now, Sheppard; we're getting out of here."

Teyla and Sheppard exchanged a smile over McKay's cluelessness as she got up again. "They'll be here in a few minutes -- we'll be back very soon."

"There's nowhere to land, so I'm not sure how they're going to get Beckett down here."

"John," Teyla said in an exasperated tone. "Let us worry about that. Wait here for us." 

"It's not like I can go anywhere," he muttered as she and McKay went back outside. 

By now, the whine of the engines could be heard over the light rain, and soon the puddle jumper came into sight, hovering overhead. It halted about 50 yards away, further up, over a relatively flat stretch of rock with no nearby trees, and the rear hatch opened. Ronon -- looking bedraggled, muddy and wet -- shimmied down a rope and onto the rocks. He secured the line, and a rope ladder, and a rather reluctant Beckett followed, then a couple of marines.

"Holy crap!" Beckett cursed as Ronon grabbed his arm to keep him from slipping on the rain-slickened rock. "You didn't tell me he was on top of a bloody mountain!" 

Ronon and Teyla helped him climb down to the cave entrance.

"Hey, doc," Sheppard said as Beckett entered the cave, followed by the rest of the team. "Decided to make a house call, eh?"

Beckett tutted as he knelt beside him, opening his medical kit. "What have you done to yourself this time, Colonel? I'm going to have to permanently reserve a bed in the infirmary just for you if you keep this up."

The soothing sound of the physician's familiar Scottish brogue was a comfort to everyone, especially Sheppard, who finally felt that the worst was over and that he could stop white-knuckling it.

"I was just minding my own business, trying to find a nice dry spot to wait out the storm, when that thing decided it didn't want to share its home." Sheppard's voice was barely above a whisper as he pointed at the dead animal.

Beckett's eyes widened. "Good lord." He turned back to his patient. "We're going to get you out of here and back to Atlantis, but first let me check to see how you're doing."

"Been bleeding like a stuck pig is how I'm doing."

As Beckett examined him with a medical scanner and stethoscope, the marines came in with a stretcher, the heavy-duty kind used for airlifts, and laid it down close to Sheppard.

In the silence, Sheppard looked at Ronon. "Glad to see you made it, buddy... But don't ever do that again, or I'll kick your ass."

Ronon did not answer, just gave him a brief half-smile.

"So how am I, doc?" Sheppard asked after a couple of minutes. 

"There's not much I can tell you now, lad. You've obviously lost a lot of blood. I'm going to wait until we get back to take a look at the actual wounds -- you'll just start hemorrhaging again if I try to take the bandages off out here." 

He looked up at McKay and Teyla. "Looks like you've done a good job keeping the bleeding under control, especially in these conditions."

"We did the best we could. I only wish it hadn't taken so long to call for help," she said.

"They did great," Sheppard said. "Listen, doc, you got any happy pills in there for me?"

Beckett's eyes narrowed, knowing that the pain had to be severe in order for Sheppard to ask for relief from it, given the man's usual high tolerance.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, lad. I need to get some fluids in you and get you stable first before I can give you anything for the pain." Sheppard frowned, and Beckett patted his hand reassuringly. "It won't be much longer, I promise. We'll have you back in Atlantis in no time."

He prepared a syringe. "But I will give you a broad spectrum antibiotic right now."

After starting an I.V. of saline and giving the injection, Beckett looked over at the carcass of the dead animal. "It's a good thing we know what attacked him You'll have to bring some samples back with us. It's too bloody big to take the whole animal -- but I need the claws and head at least." 

"You have got to be kidding," McKay said, looking queasy.

"No, I most definitely am not. If we were back home and he was bitten by a stray dog, we'd need to find the dog and make sure it wasn't carrying rabies. Here, I have no bloody idea what diseases it might be carrying."

"Oh, no way," Sheppard moaned. "If I start to turn into a bug again, just shoot me now!"

"Nobody's shooting anybody. It's just a precaution, Colonel."

"I'll take care of it," Ronon said, drawing his sword from its sheath on his back.

"Oh, god. I think I'm going to be sick," McKay said, getting up and heading back into the fresh air.

Beckett repacked his medical kit. "We're going to move you now, Colonel." He gestured to Teyla, Ronon and the marines. "Easy now, everyone." 

The five of them shifted Sheppard to the stretcher, taking great care not to jostle him too much. Sheppard winced a few times, his eyes squeezed shut, but did not make a sound.

"Right, let's go," Beckett said, and the marines picked him up. Teyla and McKay gathered their gear and started to follow them out.

"I'll be there in a minute," Ronon said, spreading out one of the discarded ponchos in order to carry Beckett's 'specimens'.

-

Doctor Weir was waiting in the jumper bay with the medical team when the Jumper 1 arrived. The sight that greeted her when the hatch opened was disconcerting at best. The rescued team was bloodied and disheveled -- Ronon was a mess, Teyla was missing a pants leg, and Sheppard himself was shockingly pale as he lay on the stretcher, covered with a heavy blanket and an I.V. of clear fluid in his arm.

"Is he going to be all right?" she asked Beckett as she and the rest of the team followed the gurney as Sheppard was wheeled hurriedly towards the infirmary.

"He'll live, but right now he's on the verge of hypovolemic shock. I'll most likely be taking him into surgery once I get more fluids into him and stabilize his vital signs. I'll know more about his prognosis after the surgery," Beckett said.

"Hi, Elizabeth." Sheppard's eyes opened in a half-slit.

She smiled reassuringly. "Hello, John. Glad to have you back."

"Glad to be back. Had a little disagreement with the local wildlife."

"So I see."

"Coming through!" one of the medics yelled as they neared a doorway, and Weir and the rest of the team fell back as Beckett and the medics rushed through with Sheppard.

As they all quickly followed, Weir asked, "Is everyone else all right?"

"We're fine," Teyla said. "The blood... it is all from the Colonel."

"Thank god no one else was hurt." 

Weir looked at Ronon. He looked a bit like a drowned rat, clothing soaked through and muddied, with various scratches and bruises on his face and arms, and bits of foliage stuck in his hair. He had a bit of a limp as well, the pants leg on his right side torn below the knee. "I hear you're the one who went for help, went out in the storm. Are you ok?"

Ronon nodded. "I'm fine."

"He went out against Colonel Sheppard's orders," Teyla said.

"I had to. How much longer do you think he would have lasted up there if I hadn't?"

"He's too stubborn to die," McKay snarked.

-

When Sheppard was taken into surgery, none of the exhausted team left the infirmary, not even to change out of their wet, dirty clothes. 

Weir waited with them in Beckett's office, using the time for an un-official debriefing, learning as much as she could about what had happened. 

All of them gave her the facts. But none volunteered much more than that. Not the grim details of how Teyla and McKay had spent the time in the cave trying to keep Sheppard alive, nor how Ronon had survived the trek down the mountainside in such a terrible storm.

But there were little things that told her far more than words ever could. 

Their uniforms had looked almost black when wet, but as they dried the dark stains and smears of blood became more apparent against the dark blue fabric. They were all over McKay's jacket, as well as the front of his pants, as if he had kept wiping his hands on his uniform. There was more on Teyla's sleeves and the front of her uniform, which was consistent with the fact that she had spent the majority of the time tending to Sheppard's injuries while McKay worked with the radio.

But it wasn't just on their clothes. There were traces of darkened blood elsewhere. It was underneath their fingernails, and McKay had a streaks of it on the back of his neck, as if he'd had it on his hands while he rubbed his neck. Teyla even had a bit of it in her hair, a small amount smeared into the matted strands near her ear. 

There was too much mud on Ronon's clothes to be able to tell if there was blood beneath, but Weir suspected that was the case.

All three seemed oblivious to how they appeared, however, not even noticing the startled looks they got from other Atlantis personnel who came by to enquire about Sheppard's health.

Elizabeth herself had not seen the extent of his wounds when the jumper arrived, so she could only guess at how terrible it must have been for them after John had been attacked, and they'd had to work together to control the hemorrhaging. Not to mention struggling for hours to keep him alive, with minimal medical supplies, until rescue came.

And so she did not push for more information, leaving them to their thoughts as they waited for news. It was hardly a surprise that Ronon was taciturn and silent. But even McKay was relatively quiet -- if you could ever actually say that Rodney McKay was 'quiet' -- as he alternated between pacing around and sitting hunched over behind Beckett's desk, eyes glancing back and forth between the clock and the door, his computer data pad lying mostly unused in front of him. 

At one point, however, she did observe him uploading what looked like a first aid manual into his pad.

After more than an hour and a half -- and what seemed like an eternity -- Beckett emerged from surgery and came to talk to them.

"Colonel Sheppard is going to be ok," he assured them, and there were sighs of relief all around. "He's out of surgery and in recovery. Within a half hour he should be awake again."

Ronon hugged Teyla, smiling at her, and gave McKay a congratulatory whack on the back that nearly knocked him off his feet.

"What's his condition, Doctor?" Weir asked. "Is he going to recover fully from this?"

"Most definitely. There will be a period of rest, recovery and rehabilitation, but I see no reason he will not be able to resume his regular duties. I had to do a wee bit of surgery since a few of the lacerations were rather deep -- they needed some vascular and nerve repair. But that's taken care of now, and I've stitched him up. I gave him two units of blood plasma to restore what was lost, so he should be right as rain, in time."

"That is wonderful," Teyla beamed. "May we see him when he wakes up?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. He needs to rest, and he'll be a bit loopy when he comes out of the anesthetic anyway. I'm going to keep him sedated for a while -- I don't want him tearing the stitches. But I'll be sure to let you know when you can see him," Beckett assured them.

"I want to see him now," Ronon said in a tone that did not allow for much argument.

"Ronon -- " Teyla began.

"I'm not going to bother him. But I'm not leaving until I see for myself that he's all right."

A long glance passed between Ronon, Teyla and McKay. "I think Ronon speaks for all of us," Teyla said quietly.

"Yea," McKay muttered, still rubbing the back of his shoulder where Ronon had hit him..

Beckett's face softened in understanding. "All right then. But just a few minutes."

As Ronon started to step away, Beckett touched his arm. "Hold on a minute, lad. Has anyone seen to you since you got back? You wouldn't let me do a proper exam on the jumper."

"I'm fine," he said, trying to move past the doctor.

Beckett's eyes took in the bruises on his body. "I'd like to confirm that for myself." He looked at Teyla and McKay. "That goes for all of you. I'll have Dr. Cole give you your post-mission checks."

"Fine, Carson, whatever," a subdued McKay said. "Just let us in there now."

"Aye," he said and stepped aside.

Weir followed them into a curtained-off section of the infirmary, lingering in the doorway, observing Sheppard as he slept. His shoulder and thigh were heavily bandaged, and his face had lost much of its deathly pallor, the color returning to his cheeks. He looked smaller somehow, and vulnerable, lying on the large bed surrounded by an array of medical equipment, hooked up to I.V.s, oxygen and various monitors.

One by one, his team approached. Ronon first, who stood at Sheppard's side for a minute, looking down at him before briefly laying a hand on his uninjured shoulder. He left, and Teyla took his place, gently taking Sheppard's hand. She bent her head and closed her eyes, apparently praying over him. That left McKay to pause uneasily at the bedside. He muttered something Weir could not hear, then left also.

Beckett went over to him, checking his vital signs, then looked at Weir, beckoning her forward.

She stopped at the foot of the bed. "Good work, Carson," she whispered, watching the steady rise and fall of the Colonel's chest.

"It helps when my patients are as strong as this one," he said. "He's a fighter."

"That he is," she said with a relieved smile. "Keep me posted on his condition."

"Aye, of course," he said as she left too.

TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

CONSANGUINITY -- Part 4  
-  
- 

"Ah, you're all here. Good," Beckett said as Ronon, Teyla and McKay walked into the infirmary together the next evening.

"I was hoping to let the Colonel rest for a little longer before he was allowed visitors, but he's awake, and he's been asking for you. Won't shut up about it, in fact, so I'm letting you all in -- If only to get some peace and quiet for me and my staff," he sighed.

"You know how he gets, Carson," McKay said. "Did you tell him we're all fine, and that you chased me out of here three times today and wouldn't let me see him?"

"He was resting, Rodney, and I didn't want you winding him up. And yes, he knows all of you have been here asking about him."

"How is he?" Teyla asked.

"Quite well. I've cut back on the pain meds a wee bit, so he's fairly coherent. The stitches seem to be holding, providing he doesn't try to move around. But we did have a bit of a setback; he's got a mild infection in the leg." There were looks of alarm. "Nothing serious though, nothing exotic, thank god. Just your garden-variety staph infection. The antibiotics are already knocking it down. But he's got a slight temperature, so the lad's a wee bit uncomfortable. Do me a favor and try to get his mind off it for a while, please?"

"We'll try," Teyla said.

As they filed in, Sheppard was propped up in bed, staring blankly at the walls, looking glum and decidedly bored. He was bandaged up much as the day before, his arm in a sling, with various tubes, I.V.s and wires attached to him. He still looked worn out and haggard, but there was a bit too much color in his cheeks now, the slight flush no doubt from the fever.

He brightened considerably when he saw them, reaching for the bed control to sit up more.

"Hey, guys. It's about time," he said.

"We would have been here much sooner, but Doctor Beckett thought it best for you to get your rest," Teyla said.

"I can sleep later. From what they tell me, I'll have plenty of time for that anyway. Could take weeks to get back on the job." He looked at them, eyes sweeping over each one anxiously. "So everyone's ok, right? Everyone got back in one piece?"

"Of course we did," McKay said. "You're the one that that thing tried to snack on, not us."

Sheppard shot him a look. "Thanks for the reminder, McKay. The bite marks in my leg weren't enough of one already."

He turned to Ronon. "You were crazy to go out in that storm. I don't know how the hell you managed to not get drowned or hit by lightning."

Ronon shrugged.

"You planning on telling me what happened after you left?"

"I went back the way we came, and I kept trying the radio. Eventually I got to the gate. Not much else to say."

Sheppard's eyes lingered on the scratches and bruises on Ronon's arms and face, and knew there was a lot he was not saying. "Yea, sure. Nothing to it. Except Carson told me you got pretty banged up and have a couple bruised ribs and a nasty cut on your leg."

"So I fell a few times," Ronon said. "It'll heal. I got through, didn't I?"

He was grateful for what Ronon had done, but yet...

"That's not the point. When I get out of here, we're going to have a little discussion about following orders." Inwardly, he winced at the irony of chastising someone about not following the chain of command. But Ronon did not need to know that.

When McKay snorted, he knew he was in trouble. "Well, if that isn't that the pot calling the kettle black."

Teyla and Ronon looked confused. "What does that mean?" Ronon said.

"Rodney..." Sheppard said in a warning tone. "Shut up."

McKay smirked. "Before you lecture him again about disobeying orders, I just think Ronon ought to know about what you did in -- where was it now? Pakistan?"

"... Afghanistan," he said reluctantly, glaring at McKay.

"Right. Afghanistan."

"What did he do?" Ronon said, now intensely curious.

"Before we came to Atlantis, Sheppard here got himself in hot water with the top brass for disobeying a direct order. I don't know the details, but apparently it involved trying to rescue some wounded soldiers behind enemy lines."

He continued to glare at McKay. "We don't leave men behind. Or at least I don't."

Ronon folded his arms across his chest. "Really. That's very interesting to know, Sheppard."

"Well... this is a classic case of 'do as I say, not as I do'." He looked up at Ronon. "But... thanks, buddy... for not listening to me. Just try not to make a habit out of it."

Ronon smiled slightly. "Can't promise that."

"Somehow I knew you were going to say that," Sheppard said with a tired sigh. "We'll definitely talk about this later, when I'm not flat on my back."

Ronon nodded, unfolding his arms after a few moments.

"Colonel," Teyla said. "How are you feeling? You look much better."

"I look like a mummy -- bandages everywhere. But yes, I'm doing ok, although with all the lovely pain killers the doc's got me on, I can't quite feel much of anything." He smiled. "I'm enjoying it while it lasts 'cause I know that I'll be feeling it all again by tomorrow. They haven't let me move much today, afraid I'll open up the stitches or something."

"You need to do what they say. You've been through a lot. Rest, and give yourself time to heal."

"You can always amuse yourself by pestering Carson," McKay said. "Keep it up enough, and he'll spring you early, just to get rid of you."

Sheppard smiled back. "I know. But I oughta cut him a little slack, at least for a while. He did just patch me up."

"No, you don't," McKay said.

"You're forgetting all the lovely ways he can pester me back, with tests and stuff," he said, his voice growing hoarse on the last few words.

He cleared his throat then licked his lips. "Sorry," he continued. "These meds dry out my mouth; feels like I've got cotton in it." He pointed to a foam cup with a straw that was sitting on a tray nearby. "Can you hand me that juice?"

"Of course," Teyla said, picking it up and bringing the straw to his mouth.

McKay leaned towards it as Sheppard took a few sips, the prospect of food piquing his interest as always. "What kind have they got?"

"Orange juice," Sheppard said.

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as McKay flinched and quickly backed away, moving to the other side of the bed.

"How can they even allow that stuff in a hospital?" McKay complained. "It's not fit for human consumption."

"Maybe Carson knows that this way, I'll get to finish it all by myself."

It took a moment for that to register, and McKay looked indignant. "Oh, I would so _not_ steal food from a sick person."

"But you did steal my blue jello last week at dinner."

"I did not."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow.

"Ok, I did. But it was the last one, and you just left it sitting there."

"Because I was saving it for later."

"All right, all right -- so I'll bring you blue jello tomorrow. Are you happy now?"

"Yes." He drank the last of the juice out of the cup, making a slurping sound. "I am."

A boyish gleam appeared in Sheppard's eyes as he lifted the straw -- and the clinging droplets of citrus juice -- up out of the cup while tilting his head towards a certain astrophysicist.

McKay's eyes widened, and he ducked behind Ronon. "Don't you dare!"

Sheppard chuckled. "Relax, Rodney, I'm kidding." He tossed the straw back into the cup and passed it back to Teyla. "I may be stoned on happy pills, but I'm not crazy."

McKay frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "Ha ha. So very not funny, Sheppard. And so very high school of you."

Sheppard just smiled, pushing himself up straighter in the bed, adjusting his pillows with Teyla's help. "I really hate sitting on my butt like this. But they tell me if I'm really lucky and behave like a good boy, I'll get to sit in a chair tomorrow. And go to the bathroom on my own," he said flippantly. "Isn't that peachy?"

"It is progress," Teyla said. "Doctor Beckett says that once your wounds have healed, you will require some amount of rehabilitative exercise to regain your strength. I told him I would help."

"So did I," Ronon said.

Sheppard glanced between the two of them warily. Ronon seemed like he was looking forward to the idea a little too much. "I'm not so sure that's a good thing."

"I thought you enjoyed our training sessions," Teyla said.

"I do. It's just the part where I get my ass kicked that I'm not so crazy about."

Teyla's answering smile was a little too smug for his taste as well.

"Excuse me, Colonel," a new female voice said.

The nurse, Nechayev, came up behind Teyla, moving towards the monitors next to him, recording his vitals on the clipboard in her hands. Then she went to a nearby cabinet and gathered a tray of bandages, tape and sterile gauze. "I'm afraid your visitors will have to leave for a few minutes. I need to change your dressings."

"Now?"

Nechayev nodded.

"Aw, they just got here. Can't you come back in a half hour?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but Doctor Beckett --"

"Please?" He looked into her eyes, smiling boyishly at her with puppy dog eyes. "15 minutes then. After that, I'll cooperate. Do whatever you want, ok?" he said in a slightly suggestive tone.

She smiled, shaking her head at his flirting. "All right, I'll be back in a little while."

When she had gone, McKay grumbled, "How do you do that? She's _never_ given me extra time."

"Some of us have charm. And some of us don't," Sheppard smirked.

"We should go," Teyla said, noticing it seemed to be more of an effort now for Sheppard to talk. "You are tired, and Carson said you have an infection. You need to sleep -- your body has been through too much. We will come back later."

"Hang on, I just got a 15 minute reprieve. I'll sleep when they're done poking at me." He paused, chewing on his lower lip. "Besides, I wanted to say something to you. All of you."

He made eye contact with each of them, then his gaze dropped to his clasped hands. "I'm lousy at this, but… I just wanna say…. Thanks." He took a deep breath and looked up again. "Thanks for taking care of me up there, and for going for help and bringing back the doc. You guys were great, all of you."

He looked at Ronon. "I owe you one, buddy. Big time."

His focus shifted to Teyla. "I owe you one too."

But his eyes lightened when he looked at McKay. "You just owe me one less."

"Oh, please, like I haven't saved you and everyone else in the city a dozen times. I so do _not_ owe you."

As Sheppard opened his mouth to respond, Teyla spoke, heading off more verbal sparing between the two. "You are most welcome, Colonel," Teyla said. "But what we did was simply what you yourself would have done if one of us were injured. You do not owe us anything. Your return to health will be all the thanks we need."

Ronon was nodding in agreement, and even McKay's indignation cooled. "Yea… what she said," McKay said.

"Yes, well, nonetheless…" The flush in his cheeks was not just from the fever now. "Thanks... And tell Major Lorne that was some nice flying -- or hovering as the case may be -- when he picked us up."

"We will," Teyla said. "But now we must go."

"Yea, before Nurse Ratched chases us out of here again," McKay said.

Sheppard winced, peering over the monitors to see where Nechayev was. "You better hope she didn't hear that, or doesn't know what it means if she did. No wonder she's not nice to _you_, Rodney."

"Dr. McKay," Teyla said before the man could respond. Sometimes she felt like she was babysitting three schoolboys. "Colonel Sheppard needs his rest. It's time to go."

Thankfully, Ronon took the hint and started to move away. "Come on, McKay."

"Come back soon, guys. I'm gonna go stir crazy in here. And bring me something."

"Like what?" McKay said as he backed towards the doorway.

"Like my blue jello. And more food. And my laptop or PDA. Or a deck of cards if Carson won't go for that."

"How about chess?"

Sheppard frowned but said, "Fine. Whatever."

"Good night, Colonel. We will see you tomorrow," Teyla said, and she and the others disappeared from sight.

Sheppard settled into the pillows, lowering the head of the bed again, his eyelids drooping. Teyla was right; he was tired, as in 'I could sleep for a week' tired. But it had certainly made him feel better to have the team visit and see with his own eyes that they were all safe and well, since his memory was a bit fuzzy after Beckett had arrived at the cave.

When someone in a white lab coat came to his bed, he looked up, expecting to see Nechayev, but found it was Beckett himself.

"Hey, doc."

"So are you going to settle down now that you've had some visitors, Colonel?" Beckett asked, looking at the monitors as he scribbled on his chart.

"Yea, yea; I'll behave," Sheppard grumbled. "I promise."

Beckett looked skeptical. "I know you don't like just lying here -- no one does -- but I need you to take it easy and do what I say. I don't want to have to sedate you again, but I will if I have to. Pop one of your sutures, and it'll be an even bet as to what's more unpleasant -- me, or the pain itself."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. Beckett was ticked off about something. "Ok, ok -- I get it."

"I wonder if you do." He stepped aside, reaching out to grab the privacy screen and pull it closed around the bed. "Sit up, if you can, lad. I'm going to check your sutures and change the dressings."

"Thought the nurse was going to do that."

"I decided to take a look for myself."

Beckett started with the leg. Sheppard was no stranger to injury, but the sight of the ragged, neatly stitched wounds -- which were beginning to look more and more like someone had taken a dental impression of the 'mountain lion' -- was enough to make him wince.

The skin was bruised and inflamed, the dressings stained yellow and dark red, and he wondered yet again about the infection. "So you're sure I've got an Earth infection, not something weird? As in 'it'll turn me into a bug and then kill me' weird?"

That got him a sympathetic look from Beckett. "No, your infection is something I'd see everyday back home. I've done cultures on what we brought back from the animal, and I can't find anything that might do you harm. You were more in danger from that dirty cave and the un-sterile cloth they used for bandages than you were from any alien bacteria."

He sighed in relief. "Well, that's good to know."

Beckett dabbed on some antiseptic and re-bandaged the leg -- with a very gentle touch, Sheppard noted -- then started on his shoulder.

His arm was eased out of the sling, the top of his hospital gown folded down, then the thick layer of bandages removed to reveal the bruised and wounded flesh beneath. Beckett moved his arm slowly, rotating the shoulder so he could see things better, and Sheppard felt the discomfort as the muscles flexed. No doubt he would feel a lot more than discomfort once he was taken off the strong pain meds.

"Here now, do you see this? Do you know how lucky you are?" Beckett said, still sounding cranky.

The four lacerations had been stitched up neatly, with small stitches which he hoped would leave minimal scarring. The top two cuts ran continuously from his collarbone to the top of his shoulder, while the bottom two ended below his armpit, then started again in two straight lines across his upper arm with more stitches.

Half of his chest had been shaved too, which looked decidedly odd.

"You took a glancing blow from what I see -- it didn't get an artery, it didn't do any internal damage or break any ribs, nor is the damage permanent. You should get all your dexterity and range of motion back. But it just missed your face and your neck -- could've easily torn open your carotid artery," Beckett said, his voice becoming more animated. "I saw its claws, they were long enough to puncture a lung and open half your chest in one blow. It -- "

Sheppard blanched. "Whoa…! Geez, enough with the graphic mental pictures, ok? I. Get. It."

Beckett seemed taken aback as well, eyes widening as he realized what he had said, face reddening in embarrassment as he turned away, putting a hand to his forehead. "What the hell am I doing…? I should be talking about this to Heightmeyer, not taking it out on you in your condition."

"Take what out on me?"

Beckett paced slowly alongside the bed a few times, head down, arms folded across his chest, before he finally answered in a quiet voice. "Do you know how difficult it is to do this? To be the doctor here, to know everyone, to be friends with many of you, and still have to try to be objective when you get hurt? It's bloody hard. Especially when people don't seem to appreciate how lucky they are to be alive."

Sheppard leaned back against the pillows. Beckett looked as exhausted as he felt, and after everything they had been through since arriving in Atlantis, he was not surprised that the good doctor was starting to lose it a little.

"Doc… You really should be talking to Heightmeyer, 'cause I'm no good at all this touchy-feely stuff," he said, looking everywhere but at Beckett. "But anyone who's career military knows you can't dwell on all that crap or you go crazy. I know damn well that I could be Wraith-bait tomorrow, so if you think I don't appreciate being here today -- sitting on my ass, hooked up to a bunch of machines, whining about bedpans -- you're very much mistaken.

"Lying in a pool of my own blood for hours gave me plenty of time to think about how totally screwed I could have been -- or Ronon and Teyla and McKay. We were just trying to get out of the rain, and I suspect the mountain lion was doing the same damn thing when we walked in on it. It was probably defending its territory. Wrong place at the wrong time. So, yes, I _do_ know I was lucky not to have been carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey."

Beckett rubbed his hand over his face. "Aye, you're the last person I should be lecturing about this, after all you've done for the rest of us." He looked at Sheppard again, a haunted look in his eyes. "We've all got our own versions of hell to deal with out here, don't we?"

"More or less, yea," Sheppard admitted.

He was tired now -- really tired -- and he definitely did not want to talk anymore. His eyes half-closed, his gaze lingering on the rows of stitches on his chest. "You gonna finish this or what?"

Beckett nodded, quickly busying himself with the task. Fresh dressings were applied, the wounds covered up again, and as Beckett wrapped the bandages around his shoulder, his professional persona came back more and more.

"I'm so, so sorry about all that, Colonel." Beckett was as embarrassed as he had ever seen him -- well, except maybe when McKay-Cadman had kissed him. "It's just that… I really worry about you, lad. All of you. You gave us quite a fright -- again."

Sheppard smiled self-consciously, knowing that Carson was a sensitive soul at heart and a bit of a mother hen. "It's ok, doc. I'm a pain-in-the-ass as a patient, I admit it. But…uhm…" His voice faltered. He really was lousy with the touchy-feely stuff, especially while the pain meds were messing with his brain. "You do good work." He patted the bandages on his shoulder. "Nice stitching."

"Thank you." Beckett guided his arm into the sling again, then took a step back from the bed.

"You know, they ought to start giving me extra hazard pay for these 'house calls'," he said in a gruff tone, folding his arms across his chest again. "I went down a flimsy ladder, off the end of jumper hovering in mid-air! And in the middle of a bloody rainstorm, on top of a bloody mountain! Scared the crap out of me."

Sheppard smiled. This was the Carson Beckett he could relate to. "Really? Too bad I wasn't there to see that."

"You were, at least on the way back."

"Yes, but I went up first when they hauled the stretcher aboard. Didn't get to see them pull you in. Or Rodney. I heard a lot of yelling though, so I'm sure he loved it," he smirked.

"Oh, most certainly," Beckett chuckled. Finishing up, he pulled back the privacy screen. "Try and get some rest now, Colonel. I'll tell the nurses to leave you be as much as possible so you can sleep through the night."

"Thanks." He noticed the bags under Beckett's eyes again. "When's the last time _you_ slept?"

He scratched his head. "I'm not sure."

"So I'm as high as a kite, and you're sleep deprived... No wonder this conversation went so well," Sheppard quipped.

A hint of a long-suffering smile tugged at the corner of Beckett's mouth. "In hindsight, aye, it probably wasn't a good idea to change your dressings myself," he said.

"Get some sleep, Carson." He gestured to the empty bed beside him. "Plenty of room here."

Beckett chuckled. "I believe the cot in my office will do nicely. Good night, lad."

Sheppard waved his fingers at him and closed his eyes.

Beckett started to walk away, then stopped. "Uhm… Colonel…?"

Sheppard sighed and re-opened one eye, peering at Beckett.

"You won't mention this to Elizabeth… will you?" He sounded mortified at the possibility.

Sheppard closed his eyes again. "I'm on drugs. Lots of drugs. I figure I'm hallucinating this entire conversation."

"I wish you were…" he heard Beckett mutter as his footsteps faded away.

The room was quiet now, only a faint murmur coming from Beckett's office, and Sheppard let his body relax, pulling the blanket higher and settling in beneath the warmth.

Though his body was exhausted, his mind was still active, and his eyelids opened slowly again, looking down at himself.

White. He was awash in a sea of white. White bed rails, white blankets, white sheets, white gown, white bandages. The only hints of color were in his hands. Warm, pink, healthy hands.

He raised his left, staring at the back of it, where the IV needle went into a vein, the clear plastic tape holding it in place showing a small amount of red blood at the insertion point.

He could feel the dull throb with every heartbeat, felt the blood pumping through his veins. Steady, strong, whole.

Alive.

He laid his hand back down on the blanket, closing his eyes again, letting out a long, contented sigh.

"I am thankful… for other things besides being alive," he muttered to himself, his last thoughts of Teyla, Ronon and McKay before sleep claimed him.

THE END  
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_ con·san·guin·i·ty_  
- noun  
1. A close affinity or connection.  
From the latin: com- "together" + sanguineus "of blood."  
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_ Thanks for all the great reviews!!_

_This is the end of the story… but… I am contemplating writing a follow-up ficlet or two…_


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